Happy New Year
by sickoftakenpennames
Summary: Vlad reflects on his past New Year's Eves spent alone, and an attempt to change that one year gives him an opportunity to think differently about one choice he might want to make in life. Oneshot, no continuity from my other story.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any of its characters. All are the exclusive property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon.**

**This is just some random oneshot that has absolutely no continuity from my other story whatsoever. The idea just came to me, and I hope this acts as a filler while I think out the next chapter for "SFS".**

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_-11:56 p.m. (EST), New Year's Eve, 1999-_

"This is it, folks! The last few minutes until the New Millennium!" came Dick Clark's shouts over the frantic New York crowds behind him.

The screaming echoed emptily throughout the halls of the castle, despite it blasting out of the surround sound connected to the excessively large TV screen that Vlad was facing. He sat slumped in a comfortable reclining chair, favorite bath robe on, his hair steadily on its way to a snowy white, a frown plainly evident on his face as he watched with lackluster enthusiasm.

He didn't know exactly what it was that led him to end up like this at the end of every year; alone in any select one of his homes, watching the festivities from the latest model TVs, relaxing in state-of-the-art furniture.

Alone.

His frown deepened as he saw the thousands of shrieking individuals anticipate the new year with hope and optimism; a fresh new start for them.

But for him? What was it for him? Another reminder of the millions upon millions of dollars he made? What did it mean after a certain point, especially if there was nothing new about it, no one to share it with?

He groggily recalled one of his business associate's invitations to his own get-together, including other partners, friends, and acquaintances. He was especially eager, since the party was also marking the introduction of his newborn daughter to his colleagues. However, Vlad had reluctantly turned down the invitation, knowing in the back of his mind that these people were not really friends; _his_ friends, anyway.

And that had left him here; to wallow in his own self-pity and past regrets for the umpteenth year in a row.

Vlad could do nothing but watch the glittering ball as it started its descent down the pole in Times Square. He leaned back as frantic crowds started the inevitable countdown.

_"10!... 9!... 8!..."_

He took a swig of wine from the glass in his hand.

_"...7!...6!...5!..."_

His expression hardened as he watched the happy couples on the screen stare hopefully at the ball.

_"...4!...3!...2!...__**1!"**_

The number '2000' exploded in bright lights across the screen, and the already jubilant crowd dove into an even bigger frenzy. Friends and family clutched and hugged each other as paper kazoos went off in all directions, confetti pouring from the air like brightly colored rain.

And Vlad just sat there and watched.

He looked down into the wine glass and contemplated his options for a few minutes.

Standing up, he put the glass down and went to get changed.

* * *

_-12:25 a.m. (EST), New Year's Eve, 2000-_

Music blasted from every speaker in the room, barely letting the doorbell be heard over the ruckus.

A man with a kazoo and a cone hat pushed through the crowd on his way to the front door. Finally reaching his destination, he let out a whoop as he opened the entrance to greet his new visitor.

He was slightly surprised to see Vlad standing there, dressed up like it was one of their business meetings.

"Vlad!" he exclaimed, pulling off his party hat in slight embarrassment.

The taller gentleman smirked and looked around.

"Sorry I'm late, I was..."

His colleague didn't give him time to fake an alibi, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Ah, forget it!" he said, smiling. "We just wish you coulda been here when the ball dropped. But it doesn't matter; party's not endin' anytime soon, know what I mean?" he shouted over the others, nudging his friend jokingly before inviting him in.

Closing the door behind him, the two made their way through the crowd, leaving Vlad to look around at the insanity unfolding around them; his associate was definitely one to splurge whatever money he was raking in immediately, not hesitating to let others know it, as evident by the house. People were dancing everywhere, the living room, the second floor banisters, the _minibar_; not bad for someone ten years Vlad's junior.

"Where's Carol?" Vlad inquired, wondering about the whereabouts of his associate's wife.

Pulling the kazoo out of his mouth, his friend directed to the French doors leading out to the patio, shouting something about his wife being in the pool house out in the back.

"Oh, and while you're at it," he continued to yell, "Introduce yourself to Melissa!"

By the smile on his face, Vlad assumed he meant his newcomer to the family. As he made his way back into the crowd, Vlad inched his way out to the back, towering over the other partiers.

The patio was no different from the inside; several people were out here around the pool, dancing and welcoming in the New Year.

Craning his neck, Vlad could see a single light flicker on in the pool house.

Making his way over, careful not to trip and fall in the pool, he finally reached the pool house door, cracked it open a bit, and poked his head inside.

"Shut the door!" came the cranky reply, causing a startled Vlad to gently shut the door behind, blocking out most of the noise outside except for the pounding bass line.

He saw Carol cradling a bundle of blankets, turning around to see her visitor. She looked weary.

"Oh, Vlad," she said, acknowledging her husband's business partner before returning her attention to her crying daughter. He walked over to her and the two shared a brief half hug.

Vlad smiled down at the round face peeking out from the swaddle of blankets, despite the fact that it was wailing loudly for no discernible reason.

"Ugh, she's been crying all night," explained Carol, who was gently rocking Melissa back and forth. "If I could just get her to rest for a few minutes…"

Vlad listened for the faint, thrumming hum of the bass line from outside; to him, it didn't seem like cause to keep someone up.

There was a lull in the baby's sobbing. Putting a hand to her temple, Carol sighed in exasperation.

"That's it, I have to tell him enough is enough. Here," she said, holding Melissa out to Vlad with a pleading look in her eyes. "Can you hold her?"

Startled, he tried to come up with some kind of excuse, not exactly fond of the idea of holding a screaming infant in his arms, but it didn't look like Carol was giving him much of a choice.

"Please, Vlad, I'll be back in a minute."

Hesitating, he finally took Melissa in his arms before Carol made her way out to the throngs of partiers outside, taking the utmost care to close the door as quietly as possible, causing the low rattling of the glass panel.

Unfortunately, this sent Melissa into another wave of piercing cries, causing a startled Vlad to glance around frantically. Finding nothing useful in sight, he defeatedly resorted to gently rocking her back and forth like he had seen her mother do, though this did little to calm the screaming infant down.

"Come on," he pleaded. Looking around again, he spotted a small piggy plushie resting on the arm of the couch he was standing near. Thinking quickly, he scooped it up and dangled it in front of Melissa, hoping to catch her attention (to no avail).

He took a good look at the plushie and noticed its tail was coiled into an unusually tight spring. Fumbling around to make sure he didn't drop Melissa, he pulled on the tail and was amazed to hear a lullaby-like tune emit from the toy, the tail rewinding to its former state as the music played.

Suddenly, the cries died down to a low, bubbling murmur, and Vlad watched incredulously as the baby's eyes opened to discover the source of the tune, entranced by this magical little toy hanging in front of her.

He found himself smiling down at her, letting the tune die out, the tail back to normal. There was finally silence, except for the low thudding of the music.

Her eyes were closed again, but she was still mumbling some sort of incoherent babble. Taking one last look at the surrounding area, Vlad found a bottle with milk on the nightstand next to the couch.

Tossing the toy on the furniture, he picked up the bottle and noticed it was only half full. Figuring it was better than nothing, he tested it on his hand first and found it was somewhat lukewarm. Holding it at an angle to make sure it didn't spill, he gently placed the tip of the bottle on her lips and watched her slowly start to drink the milk, her tiny hands coming up to grab hold of the bottle neck.

Another smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and after a minute or so of blessed silence he heard the music outside die down dramatically. Looking to the door to see a tired Carol come in, he looked down at Melissa and saw that the bottle was now almost empty.

Carol stopped for a second, looking at the scene with slight admiration; the baby hadn't been this quiet for _hours._

Smiling, she reached out for her daughter, and the two were careful to not disturb her too much in the transition.

Picking up a medium-sized hand towel hanging on the back of the couch, Carol tossed it onto her shoulder and shifted Melissa so that her chin rested on the towel, patting the infant's back.

"I got this part taken care of," she jokingly assured Vlad, moving out of his way as he headed for the door.

"Oh, and Vlad?"

He turned around.

"Thank you."

He smiled in response. Carol turned around and continued rubbing Melissa's tiny back, soothing any hint of an upset stomach that may arise from semi-warm milk.

With Melissa facing him, peacefully asleep, Vlad lingered for a few seconds before heading out the door.

…Maybe having a kid would be nice someday…

* * *

_-11:59 p.m. (EST), New Year's Eve, 2009-_

"_Whoooooooo!"_ came the whooping calls of a good time from a certain well-known techno geek as he held a cup of soda above his head in triumph. "2010, here we come!"

Danny smirked in amusement up at his friend, who was standing on top of the couch in anticipation of the New Year.

Sam, however, was not as pleased, yanking Tucker down with the rest of them as the glittering ball in Times Square began its descent down the pole.

"Quiet, quiet, everybody!" Jack Fenton yelled, silencing the lot as they waited eagerly in front of the Manson's giant LED TV screen. The group had pulled together a large gathering, despite usual feuds between the parents, and were watching with bright eyes as the ball inched closer to the bottom, starting the countdown.

"_10!...9!...8!"_

They all leaned forward in excitement.

"…_7!...6!...5!..."_

Tucker let out another rallying cry, and they all lifted their plastic cups into the air.

"…_4!..."_

* * *

There was a mechanical beeping as the watch ticked off the last few seconds.

_3…2…1._

"Happy New Year," Vlad grumbled to himself, tucking his arms behind his head as rested on an asteroid, staring off into the deep abyss of space.

...

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**A/N: Now I look back at this wondering if I painted Vlad a little too sympathetically, though I guess the downer ending made up for that.**


End file.
